


Twenty - Eight

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/M, M/M, Retirement, Sussex, deaths of characters in past lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:53:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	1. Chapter 1

"Mornin', Greg." John looked up from his laptop as Greg yawned his way to the teapot.

"John. What're you working on?"

"Research for my story - looking at old cemetery records in London. In fact - I was wondering, could we ride up with you when you go for Molly's appointment? Was thinking we might pop in to see Mrs. H."

"Yeah. Sure. Maybe we could take the truck? I ordered Molly one of those reclining chairs for the nursery and they called yesterday to let me know it's ready."

"Sure, Greg. Are you okay?"

Greg shrugged. "I'm just wondering how I'm gonna - my own da was never home, and I'm going to be here full time, yeah, I'll help Sherlock out with stuff, but I'll actually be here, not sure how to do it. I've tried reading those parenting books. I just - there are so many rules and new fangled things..."

John smiled at his friend and pushed his laptop to the side. "Greg - I see you with Molly, how much you love and care for her, how you listen to her, you try not to hover, even though you want to, and I know when Maddie arrives, you will love her. As long as she knows that, you can't really mess it up too badly."

Greg grinned shyly at him, and nodded. "I hope yer right. I hope you guys know how much it means to us to be here, in this place. I never really felt like I had a real home before. I never had time to make a home, and now - well." Greg looked back down into his mug. "To see Sherlock - well, honestly, both of you happy, I didn't know if it was ever gonna happen. And I know it hasn't been that long since you've been married, and - well, it's just - just thank you. For letting us invade your -"

John shook his head. "You two are family, Greg, I want you guys to feel this is your place as much as it is ours. One day, you'll have your own house - but this place belongs to you - I've never thanked you enough for - you know, everything you did for him. I know we're all arse at this kind of thing, but I know you were the only one who cared for him back then, and you cared for him when I should have - I should have been a better friend to him when he came back - it took me a long time to - figure things out. And somehow you managed to be a friend to both of us, when I know that couldn't have been easy."

Greg glanced up and met John's eyes. "I was like him in a lot of ways, took me a long time to find my way. I knew eventually, with his brains and heart, he'd figure it out, he just needed someone that was strong enough to love him. And I know it feels like it took too long for you to square yourself away, but he needed time, too. Needed to be able to trust that you were gonna stay. Anyway, yeah, we'll leave around seven, if that works for you guys?"

John nodded. "Sounds good, now I just gotta convince him -"

"Bribe him with Angelo's, that should work." Greg poured a cup of tea for Molly and smiled at him. "You'll figure it out, mate, you two always do, in the end."

 

John opened his laptop again and worked for another couple hours, and just as he was about to give up, his eyes popped as he finally found what he was looking for the past couple of weeks. "Sherlock? SHERLOCK!"

"What is it? Are you trapped under something heavy? Wha -" Sherlock was out of breath as he flew into the kitchen.

"Here. I finally found us, it was meant to be a surprise, but seems we can't keep secrets anymore, huh? Look. There - Scott Holmes, born 1899 died 1949, aged 50. But, look, who he's next to, Sherlock. Dr. Hamish Moses, born 1893, died 1949, aged 56. They were, we were, buried together, Sherlock. How?"

Sherlock sat down and cleared his throat. "My brother, he knew. He always knew, and after you, after Hamish died, he asked me where you would have liked to have been 'laid to rest' - his words. I remembered that you had a fondness for Highgate, and that you had no family, save for Mary. I never knew where -"

"I scattered her ashes in Highgate, it was our place." John shrugged. "She was unusual, she spent her childhood playing in the cemetery, by the time we met, she knew it by heart, where everyone was buried. When she was dying, that's what she wanted - she loved Christina Rossetti, and she asked me to scatter her ashes there." He stopped and pressed his hands to his eyes, then took a breath, and let it out slowly. "God - Sherlock, I can hear her, like it was yesterday. Listen, I - I've spent the last couple of weeks looking for us, for them, I want... will you come with me tomorrow to visit them? I talked to Greg already about going with them when they go up for Molly's appointment, and we can visit Mrs. H, go to Angelo's -"

"Yes, of course, yes, John."

"I - yes?"

"Of course. I - I don't think you know how much it means to me for you to do this, for me, for us." He got up from his chair and kissed John's forehead. "I'll call Mrs. H, see if she'll be around for tea." Sherlock placed his hands gently on John's face and gazed into his eyes."I love you, so very much, John."

"Will you go for a walk with me?"

Sherlock nodded and took John's hand in his and helped him from his chair. "I'll go anywhere you want, John, as long as you are by my side."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of angst...

John watched Sherlock get undressed for bed in silence, the pattern never changed unless John did the honours; he'd sit on the edge of the bed, and carefully remove his socks, then slowly stand and slip out of his work trousers and pants, lastly came his shirt, he would always turn to face John, as most of the scars from his time away were most visible on his back, and still, it seemed to John, even now, he wanted to shield John from what he had suffered -

"Don't." Sherlock muttered.

"Sherlock." 

"I don't want -"

"They are a part of you, love. Part of us. Why you still wake up at night in a cold sweat sometimes, and can't talk to me for a day. Those days when I know you need to be left to yourself. I know, love, even when you don't tell me. Come 'ere."

"John."

"Please."

Sherlock climbed into bed and curled up in John's arms, shivering as John kissed his curls, then let his hand slowly travel down Sherlock's back tracing the ridges and abrasions he knew by heart. Sherlock reached up and gingerly placed his hand over the damage on John's shoulder. "So close," he whispered into John's chest.

"Hmm?"

"So close, John. I almost never met you," He ran his hand down to John's more recent scar, and shuddered, as he felt John tremble at his touch. "I almost never told you, until it was too late." He sat up and straddled John's thighs, and gazed into John's dark eyes. "I don't know how I - I swore if I ever got to be with you again it wouldn't be so hard, it would be different this time for us, I wouldn't be afraid to tell you, afraid to love you, but I - I tried to delete us. I didn't - I couldn't."

John shook his head. "Shhh..." He placed his steady hands into Sherlock's curls, still damp from the rain, and pulled him closer, until their lips met. "No more talking tonight, hmm?" He brushed his warm, dry lips against Sherlock's, and moved his hands lower until they rested on Sherlock's slender hips, waiting until he could feel the tension leave his husband's body. He kissed him gently, reverently, until he heard a sigh escape from Sherlock's lips. "Johnnn -" He rested against John's shoulder and closed his eyes as he felt John's fingers travel lightly over each broken part of him, as if he were trying to heal him, trying to take away the old memories that even now threatened his current happiness. He tried to hold back the tears that were forming, but he realised the tears weren't for himself, but for all the missed chances, the moments that they should have had if the world had been kinder, if he hadn't been so afraid; he let the tears fall as he heard John's soft words, "It's alright, love. We have now, my heart. We are here, together. Sleep, love. I'll be right here when you wake up, I promise."

 

"We don't have to do this." 

Sherlock met John's eyes in the mirror. "Yes. I want to, John. I need to - I want to do this with you. It's important to me, I don't really understand why, but I need to do this with you standing with me, by my side."

John leaned against his back and sighed as he wrapped his arms around him. "Thank you. I -"

Sherlock turned in John's arms and smiled gently at him. "I love you, too." He looked into John's eyes, then muttered, "you didn't sleep last night."

"Couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes and dozed off -" John shook his head.

"John? Tell me?"

"I lost you - I don't know any other way to explain it." He shrugged. "I'll take a nap in the truck, maybe."

"We'll get Greg to drive, and you can stretch out in the back. Are you sure about this?"

"Course I am. Think Gertrude will be okay if we leave her here?"

"Remember last time we left?"

John laughed as he stretched up and pressed a kiss on Sherlock's mouth. "Do we have a leash for her?"

"Think she'll let us put a leash on her?"

"Probably not." John considered with a grin. "Ready, love?' 

"BOYS!! Let's go!" Greg bellowed from downstairs.

Sherlock squeezed John's hands. "Ready."

 

Gertrude was settled behind Molly's seat, while Sherlock sat behind Greg, with John in his arms. They bumped down the driveway, and Sherlock sighed as he watched John's eyes slowly close. "I'm right here, John. We'll go have a nice tea with Mrs. H, then take a nice walk with Gertrude, afterwards we'll get lasagne at Angelo's, I called Harry yesterday, they'll meet us there at two. Just rest, John." He stroked his fingers through John's hair until he knew John had fallen asleep, then he, too, closed his eyes.

 

"Scott."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry. His manservant found him - it was peaceful, if that's any consolation. He left a letter that was to be delivered to me - I suppose, he knew, somehow - there is a letter for you. Was there a place, do you know, I know he had no family -"

"Highgate." Scott whispered. "Mary - he'd visit -"

"I am sorry, brother mine. I -"

"Let me know, when the stone is placed, something simple, just his dates -" Scott picked up his letter opener with trembling fingers, but somehow managed to open the envelope. Lucian Holmes nodded and quietly left the bookshop.

 

My dear Scott -

I hope this letter finds you. If it does, please forgive me, for not being strong enough to choose you, to be with you. I was a coward, simple as that. Please believe me, if I could do this all over again, have another life with you, I would take a different road, I would travel the world with you, if that is what you wanted. I would find a place to be with you where our love is not seen as something to be ashamed of. I was never ashamed of you, of us, of what we were to each other. My heart always belonged to you, always. It is late and I am so very tired, my love.

Yours always and forever,  
Hamish


	3. Chapter 3

"Boys! And Gertrude! How lovely to see you." Mrs. Hudson opened her door and looked around. "Molly and Greg?"

"Their appointment is in ten minutes. Otherwise, you know Molly would be here." Sherlock grinned at her then kissed her cheek. She looked at him closely and nodded. "Good. About time," she whispered against his cheek as she returned the kiss. "Come in, come in. Sorry - the new people do like their incense, it can be a bit much sometimes."

"Better than what it used to smell like at times, hmm?" John snorted as he followed Gertrude inside Mrs. Hudson's flat.

"Yes, definitely no chance of getting poisoned these days." Mrs. Hudson laughed as she closed the door behind John. "I'm afraid I may have overdone it a bit -" Sherlock rolled his eyes as he saw the dining table completely covered in cakes and sandwiches.

"Were you up all night?"

"Maybe, that's not your concern, you. Sit. I think I have something for Gert. I remember she rather liked eggs, so I made her some scrambled eggs..." She grinned as Gertrude took her place by the table and quietly had her tea.

"So, what are you two in town for, not just to see me..."

John glanced over at Sherlock, then at Mrs. Hudson and sighed. "She knows."

Sherlock nodded and busily stirred sugar into his tea.

"I found where Hamish and Scott are buried, and I wanted to, needed to see."

"Why?" Mrs. Hudson asked quietly.

"Honestly, I wanted to touch their names - I don't know, let them know we made it somehow. These days that doesn't seem like such a strange thing, that they would know. Seems important. It is important."

Sherlock reached across the table and took John's hand. "It is, John. It is to me, too."

"They were - so very like you boys, I knew who you were, Sherlock, the moment I laid eyes on you, you couldn't have been more than a week old, you already had his eyes, and the ridiculous curls. I had hoped for so long - I didn't think you'd live long enough to find him again - damn. Cake, John?"

 

"I couldn't tell you -" Sherlock began after they waved goodbye to Mrs. Hudson, and Gertrude led the way to Highgate. 

"You don't have to explain." John said as he held on tighter to Sherlock's hand.

"No, I do. It would have solved a lot of problems if I could have just told you, "John. You can't marry her, because we're soulmates." But you would have laughed in my face.

"Probably." John agreed as he leaned into Sherlock's shoulder.

"I couldn't make you stay with me. You had to make the decision, John. And even after you stayed to take care for me, I couldn't even tell you I loved you, let alone try to convince you that we were - I don't understand how it works, but -" Sherlock stopped and turned to look at John. "I'm - I wish I was better at this, John. That there were words that could tell you..."

John shook his head and pulled Sherlock down into a kiss, and held his face for a long moment in the middle of Baker Street, until someone honked at them, reminding them where they were. John flipped them off and pulled Sherlock to the sidewalk. "I should have known, Sherlock. I kept getting pulled back to you, no matter what you did; no matter what I did, you kept forgiving me, letting me come home, so many times - I didn't understand. I didn't know until that morning when I woke up in your arms in hospital, when I remembered everything you said to me when you thought I was dying. I knew then, somehow, but I didn't know exactly what I knew until I started having the dreams of us - once we got to Sussex. I had been there before Sherlock. I don't know when, but I had been there before." He fell silent and didn't speak again until Gertrude stopped at the entrance of the cemetery. "I've been here, Sherlock. Not -"

Sherlock nodded and pushed the gate open. "Do you know where?"

John pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket. "I drew out a map, not sure if - I don't think it matters. Gertrude seems to know." As he spoke, Gertrude walked slowly through the gate and looked back as if making sure they were following her. After several twists and turns, she stopped in front of two stones, then laid down between them.

"John." John released Sherlock's hand and watched him fall to his knees in front of Hamish's stone; his name and dates were still easily seen nearly seventy years later, the marble was of a quality that was meant to withstand anything that time might choose to throw at it. One day, John would have to thank Mycroft for his rare sentimental act, to take such care of his brother's - what were they exactly to each other? Soul mates seemed wrong. They were simply the other - the other half, their missing part... Sherlock raised his hand and traced Hamish's name with a trembling finger. "I never saw it, John, before today. You were made of sterner stuff, John. After Lucian left the bookshop, Scott turned off the lights, closed up the shop, and went home. Seems it was too much for him, to lose Hamish, even though it was just a few hours a week... John." John laid his hand on Sherlock's shoulder and closed his eyes as Sherlock leaned into him. John held on to him, allowing him to finally mourn his long lost love, lost long before his actual passing, lost because of society's inability to accept that two men could - lost due to Hamish's inability to trust his heart would have been enough for Scott, his love would have been enough.

"Sherlock, I'm so sorry, love." He dropped down next to him and felt tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, Scott. I - you deserved better, I should have known, love. God, I'm so sorry."

Sherlock sat up slowly and cupped John's face in his large hands. "No, John. This is not on you. You're not Hamish."

"But, it was - I didn't - it was my fault. I deserted you, when I married her. I didn't know - he should've, I should've been strong enough."

"I was the coward, John. I could have stayed and been your friend, that should have been enough for me. I left you. Yes, you married Mary. You did what was expected of you, what society demanded then. But I could have accepted what you could offer me then, instead, I took the easy way out, and no, it wasn't easy to leave you. Not then, not ever. I could have told you who I was when I came back, instead I gave you all I had left, my friendship, my time. And it was nearly enough. 

John. We aren't them. Not anymore. We have everything they never even thought to dream of. Look at me, John. You aren't Hamish. Look at your hand, you're wearing my ring on your hand. I'm wearing yours. I was selfish to tell you. But, I wanted you to know, John. I needed you to know - we keep trying, over and over, sometimes we get it wrong, but this time, we finally got it right. We got it right, John." He wiped the tears from John's face, then brought John's trembling hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "It's almost two o'clock, let's grab a cab and go to Angelo's. I'm starving." He whistled for Gertrude and she got to her feet, then led them out of the cemetery.

 

She's a she! - Molly

Of course she is. Congratulations, Molly. - S

Do you want to meet us over at Angelo's? - S

We'll be there soon, Greg just wants to stop by 'the shop' just order me some lasagne? - Molly

Will do. - S

 

"She's a she." Sherlock whispered to John.

"Madeleine Grace. That's good." John smiled as he looked out the window - he thought he could see the old bookshop as it once was for a brief moment, before it turned back into the tourist trap it had become who knows how many years ago. He turned and looked down into Sherlock's smiling face, there was something different about him, something lighter, somehow he had lost part of the shadows that he always carried with him.

"John?"

"Nothing, just thought I saw - it's nothing. I'm just hungry."

"Thank you for today, John. You didn't have to."

"Yes, love, of course I did. For both of us, for all of us."

"I love you."

"Yeah, I know. I love you, too."

"Angelo's, boys. Nice to see you back in town."

"Just for a few hours, Joe, we're heading back tonight."

"Ah, too bad. You boys are missed. Been boring without you two."

"Thanks, Joe." John gave him a few notes and opened the front door for Gertrude. "Come on, girl, I know Angelo will have something special for you." 

"Harry and Clara are already inside." Sherlock smiled as he grabbed John's hand and led him and Gertrude through the door.

"BOYS!!!"


	4. Chapter 4

John glanced over at his sister, she was happy, seemed happier than she had been in a long time. Clara nodded at him, it seemed he had asked a question and it had been answered without a word. 

"I have a friend who is taking over the practice." Harry grinned at him as she popped another piece of garlic bread in her mouth.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. You two, and Greg and Molly, you all showed me, showed us when it's time, it's time. We have been saving for years. I've always wanted, we've always wanted to travel, see other places, you know - Italy, France, wherever. Don't worry, we'll be back, and we'll make sure to send tons of postcards and tacky souvenirs."

"You've been thinking about this a long time." 

"Yeah. Even before this last one. I'm tired, John. I need to see things that aren't broken. Know what I mean?"

John smiled at her and took her hand. "Yeah, course I do, Harry."

Harry laughed and kissed his cheek. "Got time for tiramisu, or are you all in hurry to get back?"

Molly snorted. "If you think I'm leaving without tiramisu, you all are out of your minds."

Sherlock turned to look for Angelo, only to find him clearing their plates, and Billy behind him with a tray of dessert.

"I won't need to eat for at least a day or two," Sherlock groaned, as he leaned back in his chair.

"You can always take a nap on the way home, love." John winked at him and drew in a breath of surprise as Sherlock leaned forward, put his hand into John's hair and pulled him into a kiss, as if he'd never kissed him before, then pulled back gently and smiled at him.

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

 

John looked down into Sherlock's eyes as they started on their way home and shook his head.

"What?"

"I don't know, sometimes, what I did to deserve you."

"Either something really good, or -"

"Stop." John laid his fingers into Sherlock's curls and watched his husband's eyes flutter and finally close. "You are the best thing that every happened to me. And you know it, at least I hope you do."

"Hmmm... John." Sherlock snuggled closer into John's chest and after a few minutes was fast asleep.

"I love you, my sweet man."

 

"Home, love."

"Hmmm?"

"Come on, up, you. I need to help Greg move Molly's chair in, after my legs wake up." John leaned over him and kissed him gently, and gazed into his eyes. "No ghosts?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No ghosts, John. Maybe they are finally at rest, now."

John nodded, and sat quietly for a moment. "They will always -"

"Yeah, I know, John, but remember, we aren't them, we're us, still the same as we were before, now, we just know we carry souls that have been around the block a few times, and these souls aren't content, unless..."

"God - I want you." John murmured as he leaned down once more and captured Sherlock's lips. "I - please, Sherlock. Just give me a couple of minutes to help Greg and I'll be up - I just..."

Sherlock nodded and sat up, shot him a grin and nudged Gertrude awake. "Home, Gert - let's go get you some dinner, hmm?" He jumped out of the truck and made sure Gertrude was out safely before he slammed the door.

 

John walked into their bedroom shedding clothes as fast as he possibly could.

"Slow down. I want to watch."

"Damn." John rolled his eyes, but stopped, and pulled his pants and trousers back up again, and slowly slid them off, keeping his eyes locked onto Sherlock's dazzling green ones. He undid his buttons slowly, then shook his shirt from his shoulders, grinning as he heard Sherlock gasp in desire.

"You're stunning. I've always thought so."

"Don't be ridicul -"

"John." Sherlock sighed and got out of bed, and walked over to him silently. "You - are - gorgeous. Do you know how hard it was for me at Angelo's today, not to just take you into the restroom -"

"Damn." John closed his eyes as Sherlock pulled him tightly against his lean, sculpted form, and nearly had to remind himself to breathe.

"You are beautiful, John. And you are mine. Mine." He scooped John into his arms and carried him to their bed, then laid him down. "I'll never get used to this, John. Being with you, loving you - knowing you this way..."

"Come to bed, love." John reached out his hand to Sherlock, pulling him into his arms. "I'm here, my heart. For you."


	5. Chapter 5

3 October -

Em -

He asked me last night, Howard, he asked me to marry him - I said yes. He nearly fell over until I caught him, which is no easy task as you know, he's even bigger now - he asked if I was sure and I laughed, his eyes, Em - I never thought I'd actually - I love him, Em. I had forgotten what a good person he is, he's so gentle and kind. And the way his eyes light up when I walk into a room. It's ridiculous...

The boys - oh, Em, when they came back from London, I saw it in their faces, they have become, I don't know what, exactly, it's like when we were pirates together, before we were captured and hung of course, but when we knew - knew what we were, understood, and knew what we had wasn't wrong. If possible they love each other even more - I see it in how they look at each other, how John brushes his fingers over Sherlock's for no reason, other than he can - I remember, Em. God - I remember everything so clearly here. I seem to live in dreams half the time now, when you were strong and - you were magical, love...

Oh, and it was confirmed that Molly and Greg's baby is indeed a girl. We all knew it anyway, but it's nice to know - now I can start making that blanket for her - I wasn't going to use pink, but it's still good to know - maybe some purple and blue. It's been a long time since I've crocheted - but I still have a bit of time... they are off to have tea with Z and Glady...

 

"Boys! How was London?" Z asked as John and Sherlock walked up the porch steps, with Gertrude at their heels. She curled up next to Z's chair and fell asleep as the boys dropped into their chairs. 

"Still noisy and grey," John smiled, then cleared his throat. "Ever hear of a Hamish Moses?"

"My uncle."

"Did you -"

Z nodded. "He brought his Mary with him - they had been married a couple of years. Christmas. I was just a lad. I don't remember much, but I remember his moustache, he had a magnificent one, it tickled when he kissed my cheek." He looked over at John and raised an eyebrow. "What do you remember, Doc?"

John leaned back in his chair and took Sherlock's hand. "I - remember this house, I knew I had been here before when we arrived that day - you don't have any photos of him, do you? I'm just curious -"

"Yeah, I do - I've been waiting for you to ask, I didn't think you'd - so you visited them, then?"

"Needed to see their names, I knew what I dreamed about was real, I just -" John looked over at Sherlock who was watching him carefully. "We just needed to say goodbye, I think. We never - they didn't have that chance. It's funny. All of this, should feel, I don't know - improbable, if not impossible. I am a man who doesn't believe in much, Z. But, I know this. I know I have been with him - more than just in this lifetime. I just have to keep my head in the present, this time we have now. It's not always so simple." He picked up Sherlock's hand and smiled softly at him as he felt his fingers tremble in John's hand. He kissed Sherlock's fingers as he searched his eyes, and felt him relax into his touch.

"After tea, we'll get out out the books, hmm?"

"Books?" John asked.

"Oh yes, don't you want to see your baby pictures?" Z grinned at John's astonished expression. "They were mad about photography - it was still early days - but yes, you in your baptismal dress - with your mum and brothers."

"Brothers?"

"Oh, Doc. You have a whole family to meet. Come on, tea's almost up."

"John?" Sherlock whispered as John sat as if frozen to his chair.

"Yeah, I'm okay - I just didn't think - Sherlock -"

"I know, John." Sherlock kissed John's hand, then helped him from his chair and into his arms. "We're both learning what this means, John. I've never - we've never traveled this far together before. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, next, except that I'm here to love you." John leaned into his chest and sighed. "I'm here to love you, John."


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock hummed softly as he played with John's hair as he dozed peacefully on the couch. "It was remarkable, Grace, to see his face when Z gave him the book, his baby book essentially; another him, and brothers, there were four boys, he was the oldest, he and Z's father were the only ones to return from Samarra, they were all so close in age - they requested to serve together... and they all nearly died together..." Sherlock blinked down at her, as she sat on the carpet, Gertrude sitting close by. "There were photos of all of them every year, all blond and blue eyed, so Z had been told, they were almost identical. He couldn't remember them, Grace. I wish I knew how it worked, I wanted to be able to help him remember - and his mum, was stunning, his father always took the snaps, so except for one blurry image, taken by one of the boys, Z thinks, we don't know what he looked like... sorry, I - it must be -"

Grace shook her head as she scratched between Gertrude's ears. "No, it just reminds me..."

"Grace?"

"No..."

"Oh, come on. You have to tell now, I'm dying of curiosity."

"We were pirates."

"What?" Sherlock's eyes danced in delight.

"Em, Howard and I, we had a beautiful ship - 'Trinity'..." Sherlock studied her face as she returned to the time of - "The reign of the first Elizabeth..."

"No way!" Sherlock snorted and tried to stifle a laugh, but failed miserably.

"Wha -?" John sat up and rubbed his face. "What'd I miss?"

"Your mum was a pirate!" Sherlock whispered in awe as Grace grinned at him.

"For a few years, we managed to evade the Queen's ships, we'd board the occasional Spanish galleon, and because we were ladies, we'd catch them off guard just long enough for Howard to steal a few baubles... trouble came when we tried to rob the Queen's ships, she had a bit of a problem with that... you'd think she'd have supported a couple of sisters just trying to live in a man's world, but noooooo, not Liz..."

"Muuum!" John rolled his eyes as Sherlock collapsed on the couch in a fit of giggles.

"No, seriously! Instead, she had us hung as an example. Can you believe it?"

"No, I can't - Mum, you're having us on."

"Nope. I'm sure there are records somewhere, or there were, once upon a time." She grinned at them both, then cleared her throat. "I wanted to tell you both something."

"Mum?" John stilled his laughter and glanced at her with a concerned look in his eyes.

"No, I'm fine, for someone my age, I'm fine, John. No. Howard asked me to marry him last night, and I said yes."

John jumped off the couch and gently helped her from the floor. "Mum, that's brilliant. He's lovely. I'm so pleased for the both of you." He kissed her cheek and she held his face in her hands and met his eyes.

"I'm so happy you approve, John. I've always wondered, if I was supposed to end up with him all along. We always had a strong connection, but Em..." she sighed, "she was a force of nature and my - well, my everything, she outshined everyone else - much like your Sherlock does, now. John, I'm so - I'm just so pleased that you and Sherlock know who and what you are to each other. It's a gift, at least it can be, just -" She stretched a hand out to Sherlock and he stood to take it. "love one another. I know you do, I see it - every day, how you are growing in your understanding, it's remarkable to see, my sons. Now, I'm off to bed." She kissed them both on their foreheads, then left the room quietly.

"Can you imagine?" Sherlock whispered.

"You'd make a brilliant pirate," John murmured as he laid his hands on Sherlock's hips, pulling him close. 

"Hmmm. You'd be a rival captain, that I captured, but took a liking to..."

"Oh, yes?"

"Uhmhmm... you'd have to pledge your eternal devotion to me, or...."

"Or?" John raised a curious eyebrow at him, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"I'd have you walk the plank," Sherlock murmured lightly.

"Guess I'd have to walk the plank, then..."

"Oh, really?"

"Hmm, yes, you see, I'm already taken, my heart belongs to another..."

"True love, is it?" 

"The truest, I swear." John's voice trembled, as Sherlock's strong hands pulled him impossibly closer.

"He's the very luckiest of men, then, to have such a love."

"No, my heart, I am the fortunate one. Upstairs... please?"

"Yes, my love."


End file.
